Vanishing Winter
by SocialMoth
Summary: Before Jamie, Jack had one believer - a little girl named Violet Parr.
1. Violet's Wish

**June 2013  
**

**So, my brain decided this was appropriate. And the idea WOULDN'T LEAVE ME ALONE.**

**So, twenty days of frenzied writing, a break of a couple weeks to work on thing for school, and then a session of crash-editing later, here we are.**

**This _is_ more-or-less completely written, so updates should, theoretically, be rather quick. No promises, though; school _does_ start for me on the 26th, after all... And if I can get my head in the right place for it, I would like to add some things to the later chapters...  
**

**Anyway, off we go! First foray into two new fandoms I'd never written for, before. Let's see how I did, eh?**

**"Rise of the Guardians" is from Dreamworks based on William Joyce's "Guardians of Childhood" series (which I will get around to buying and reading at some point); "The Incredibles" is from Pixar, and a product of Brad Bird's brain (see what I did there? I kid, I kid), a person I would love to meet some day.**

* * *

Violet didn't like the winters in Texas very much. All the winters meant was less-sweltering heat.

When Mom told her the family had to move again, the first thing she wanted to know was whether they would get snow.

Mom had smiled fondly and said, "Most likely." Violet cheered, her racket startling her toddler brother. Mom gently chided her to calm down. And she did, though she still bounced in excitement. The possibilities of snowball fights and sledding took away some of the sting of moving again, having to be the "new kid" once more when she had only just settled out of it at her elementary school.

She didn't see her mother sigh wearily at the cluster of unpacked cardboard boxes remaining from their last move.

–

_'Welcome to Burgess, Pennsylvania'_

Violet slowly read it to herself – the sign flashed by before she could quite make it through "Pennsylvania." Was March too late for snow, here? There wasn't any on the ground.

The tree in their new backyard had a plank swing left over from the last family that lived there. The second night at her new house, Violet sat out on the swing in the cold air. She stared up at the full moon, drew out its face. She waited and waited for Mom to call her in for dinner. It was meatloaf. She said at school that she hated meatloaf, because everyone else hated meatloaf; but it was one of the things her mother made that she really, really liked.

And then she thought she saw a star. It was so _cold_ outside, and had been ever since they'd come to Burgess, but all she'd _seen_ so far to show for it was a bit of frost on the grass. She looked up at that star. Thinking hard, she kicked back on the swing and glided back and forth a few times over the dewy ground. Grasping the ropes tightly, she leaned back to look at the lone star and the moon glowing next to it. "Star light," she murmured, "star bright," she continued, reciting the rhyme she'd only heard on TV and out of storybooks.

"I wish for snow," she said earnestly at the end, sitting up in the swing and making her biggest eyes at the star. "Lots and _lots_ of snow." After a long staring contest with the star to prove how badly she wanted it, Violet leaned back on the ropes again, gazing up through the tree branches into the black night sky, hoping that maybe the flakes would start falling right then. But they didn't. Violet pouted. "Please?" she added in her most cloying voice.

"Vi," Mom called from the back porch, "Time for dinner!" Violet slid off the swing and trudged up to the house, casting one last imploring glance skyward. The sliding door shut heavily behind her and soon she forgot about the whole thing.

Back in the tree, a teenaged boy clothed in faded brown pants and an indigo crewneck sweater, both spider-webbed with frost, tightened his grip on a long shepherd's crook.

–

"Are you ready for your first day at your new school tomorrow, sweetie?" Mom asked as she tucked Violet into bed. Violet looked wary.

"I don't like being the new kid," she fretted, looking down at her stuffed lilac-colored bunny in her lap rather than her mom. Sympathetic, Mom kissed her hair.

"It will be okay, Vi. You'll make lots of new friends before you even know it."

"But what if we have to move _again?"_ Violet asked, turning worried blue eyes up to her mother.

Helen started to assure Violet that they weren't going to move again (at least not any time soon). But that was what she had said the last time. And it had been so hard on Violet to relocate so soon. Her daughter was shy, _very_ shy. She would talk enough at the family table but it was always in this quiet, ill-certain voice. It had been hard for her to get over being an outsider even if she had started kindergarten from the first day of the school year. Their Texas home had been in a small town; all the kids already knew each other from daycare and play dates.

And now here in Pennsylvania, Violet was about to be dropped into the middle of the school year with entirely new students and teachers after she'd finally managed to settle in and find her place. "Mom? What if we move again?" Violet repeated. Helen forced a smile.

"We won't move again for a very long time, Vi," Helen said – and if the past had anything to say, they did have at least a year or two. And to a child as young as Violet, that _did_ seem like a _very_ long time. Thankfully Violet seemed to buy that. She squeezed the plush rabbit to her chest as she lied down, head on her pillow. Helen pulled the chain on the bedside lamp and a soft lavender glow slid across the room. "Good night, Violet. I'll see you in the morning."

"I love you," Violet's small voice came from the blanket mounded up at the head of the mattress.

"I love you, too, sweetheart." The overhead light clicked off and Violet nestled into a more comfortable position in the half-light of her lamp, looking toward the window. The slats pretty well obscured the view, although she could still detect the light of the moon – now dimmed behind a cloud cover that had settled in after dinner. "Star light," she started to say again, but then she shook her head at herself. There were no stars in sight, and she couldn't have said which one she saw first, anyway. And it was _dumb_ to wish on stars anyway. That was baby stuff that only worked on TV.

The boy in the indigo sweatshirt peered through the spaces in the blinds at the girl, then looked over his shoulder up to the Moon. Well, she had recited the rhyme and her wish to a star; not to the Moon and certainly not to _him_. He looked at her, sound asleep, and then to the Moon again. A mischievous grin played its way across his face. Well, he couldn't speak for the star, or the Moon, but _he_ could certainly give the girl some snow. Lots and _lots_ of snow.

And, well; it wasn't like the Moon was telling him he _couldn't_.

"Hey, Wind," he whispered, and tendrils of it kicked playfully through his hair, "Let's have a snow day."


	2. It's an Expression

**As far as I know, nobody's looked at this, BUT, it's update time anyway. (If anyone _is_ reading this, pleeeeeeease let me know. :) This is getting attention on AO3 and really let's be honest, AO3 _is_ much better for the crossover crowd in some ways. But that's not what this is about.)**

* * *

The TV was on when Violet woke up. She could hear it from her room. She yawned out of her half-asleep fog and pushed the covers away. Walking past the window, she didn't notice how the light washing in seemed just a little too bright...

Mom sat in front of the TV in her fuzzy pink bathrobe, a steaming mug of coffee between her palms. "Good morning, Mom," Violet said, remembering now that she had to go to school, and the dread of it seeped into her voice.

Helen startled. "Why are you up so early, sweetie?"

"I think the TV woke me up..." And then Violet saw what was on the TV. It looked like the news, but more importantly the news showed-

"There's snow?!" Violet exclaimed. She dashed to the living room window and wedged her hands between the blinds. The expanse of white fell over the sill and flooded out into the street. It looked deeper than her rainboots and it still cascaded down in puffy clumps of flakes. "Is school canceled? Is it? Is it?!" she blurted, hopping up and down in her excitement. She looked from the window to her mom, grinning wide; such a dramatic change from the sullen child she had been only moments ago. Mom was looking very hard at the TV screen. The more time passed without an answer, the more Violet's smile fell. "Mom, do I still have to go to school?" Mom held up a finger for Violet to be patient. She clasped her hands in front of her, rooted to the spot in nervous anticipation. Finally the concentrating expression on Mom's face vanished and she smiled.

"It's a snow day, Vi."

"_Yayyyyyyyyyyy!_" Violet crowed, throwing her arms up in the air and running back into her room to bundle up just like Mom and Daddy always told her to before she went out to make snowmen. And then she looked out her window, and then she remembered!

Her wish!

The _star!_

"Mom, guess what!" she shouted, running back into the living room. Mom _shh_'d her, saying she would wake Dash. Violet continued in an excited whisper for a few words before talking loudly again. Even Violet, already the queen of the Inside Voice among her peers, was not immune to the power of a snow day. "Last night, before dinner, I wished on a star that there would be lots of snow. Just like on TV! And guess what? Now there's lots and lots and _lots_ of snow!" Her grin was impossibly huge. But suddenly she frowned. "How come that didn't work in Texas?" she asked.

Climate was just a bit too sophisticated a concept; and Helen wanted to keep the magic in her daughter's childhood as much as possible. "Maybe Jack Frost doesn't like Texas," she mused, smirking at her own private joke – _she_ hadn't liked Texas.

Violet stopped short, eyes wide with wonder. "Who's Jack Frost?"

Mom smiled and helped Violet put on her jacket and clipped her mittens to the ends of the sleeves. "Jack Frost is a winter spirit. He paints frost on windows, and he can bring snow, too. He must have been in the yard when you made your wish, and overheard you."

"And he made it snow just for me?"

Mom chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Just for _you_. Now, play safely," she reminded, tying Violet's scarf more securely around her neck, "Stay out of the street even if you don't see any cars coming. Stay in the yard, okay?"

"Okay, I will!" Violet promised, and without further ado she pulled the back door open and ran giggling into the continuing snowfall. She sank almost to her knees and her momentum carried her forward. She rolled over to get back up, white powder dusted down her front. The falling flakes bit her cheeks where they landed. They collected on her hat and in her long black hair. Laughing, she looked up at the white-grey sky, the thick flakes tumbling into her open mouth, sharp and cold like a juice pop. "Thank you, Jack Frost!" she yelled to the clouds, and a particularly large snowflake landed on the tip of her nose.

Wasn't that the song Daddy always played at Christmas? "_Jack Frost nipping at your nose_._.._"

"Haha, you're welcome."

–

The little girl before him froze – no pun meant, being as she was knee-deep in snow. Jack paused before he flew away on the Wind. Something about the little gasp she'd let out stilled him. And quickly she looked around herself and when her wide blue eyes landed on him she opened her mouth like she might _scream_. But she didn't. She stood stock still, transfixed. He felt a tremor run up his spine and radiate out through his arms and he clenched his fingers around his staff. He blinked. She blinked, mouth still hanging open. Neither of them moved. And then, finally, with a child's open curiosity, she broke the silence.

"Are you Jack Frost?"


	3. Jack Frost

**Yikes - sorry about the slight delay, you guys. I started school 8/26 and free time sort of got away from me. In fact I should be homeworking now, but I just got home from the second of three days of work receptioning sooooo I kind of need to wind down.  
**

**Thank you for the favs, follows, and reviews! :D Please enjoy!**

* * *

_"Are you Jack Frost?"_

It echoed around his head, hammered in, and he nearly went blind with the panic (_did she just that can't be but she said_) crashing through him, his staggered breath puffs of mist in the icy air. Drop-jawed in his shock, quickly favoring a broad grin that he barely managed to hold steady when he realized _she was still looking at him!_ "Y-yes!" he finally choked out, moisture welling at his eyes. He leaned heavily on his staff, overwhelmed. "Yes, I am! That's me! Jack Frost!" He sunk forward onto his knees, eyes level with hers, gripping his staff even harder to keep upright. "You can see me?"

"Of course I can," she said, frowning like she thought he was being silly. Why shouldn't she be able to see him?

All the air left him; even the Wind didn't seem to know what to do. It felt like the Wind was as baffled as he.

"You see me?" he asked again, voice pitching higher as a warm, buoyant something swelled up in his chest, and he had the feeling he might _burst_ if he couldn't get it out. The little girl nodded, looking even more now like she thought he was just trying to act dumb.

"She sees me," Jack said on a trembling rush of air, head bowing as if in reverence. He laughed weakly to himself, tension draining out of him, and only throwing a hand in front of him prevented him from keeling face-first into the snow. "She sees me," he said again and again. The balloon swelling up inside him became too much to bear and he leaped into the Wind at last, back-flipping and crowing up into the sky with unabashed _joy_. And when his breath ran out he found more and cheered again; he circled above the house, high up in the sky. He might have screamed himself hoarse except he remembered the little girl down in the back yard. Coming back to himself, Jack returned to her, kneeling down, gripping his staff nervously with both hands, but he had never smiled so hugely in his _life_.

"Hey," he said breathlessly, voice soft now, "What's your name?"

She swayed shyly, long black hair falling over one eye. "Violet Parr," she said, looking askance at him. She did not seem to have been put off by his explosion of emotion. Jack grinned and reached out toward her, staying his hand when he noticed her twitch away.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Violet Parr," he said, voice thick in his throat. He had never spoken to _anyone_, really. Just himself and the silent Man in the Moon. And one-sided dialogue with the children he visited – those ones who never heard him or saw him no matter how hard he tried. But no one had ever talked _back_. And now that someone finally _did_... He had dreamed a million times about such a moment but he had _never_ believed in it – he had _no_ idea what to say or do.

"Are you okay, mister?" Violet Parr asked him, and Jack realized he was actually _crying_ now. Withdrawing his hand, brushing his tears away before they became flecks of ice on his face, he nodded. He took a steadying breath and let it out in an ephemeral cloud.

"Yeah. I'm great. Do... do you know, Violet, that only _very_ special people can see me?" It was the best he could come up with. And, in his heart, it was true.

Violet actually looked surprised at that. Like he had jarred something in her memory. "Daddy always says I'm special. I thought it was just because..." she cut herself off and glanced wide-eyed back at the house. Mom had always taught her not to talk about her powers, that they were a Big Secret. Jack Frost cocked his head at her, a slight crease in his brow.

"Because of what?" he gently prodded. He knew parents always told children they were special, that _everyone_ was special. And he believed that, too. But Violet Parr could _see_ him, and he believed without a doubt that did make her _very_ special. "Violet?"

And she seemed to shut herself off, looking caught between retreating into the house and standing there but bursting into tears in her frustration. Something she was not allowed to say? Jack knew this one. "I won't tell anyone else, I _promise_."

For a long moment, she stared wide-eyed at him, not even blinking. And then quicker than a blink her entire head _vanished._

"Whoa!" Jack cried, springing back onto the Wind in surprise. "Violet?!" he shouted at the empty space where here face had been, heart hammering. Where'd- How did- _What?!_

The crunch of little footsteps in the snow drew his attention back and he watched the bundle of winter clothes, holding the shape of an unseen child, make an ungainly beeline for the house. "Violet, wait, please!" he called, flying over to crouch down in front of the clothes. Violet's face reappeared before him, perhaps losing control when he startled her. "You're a Super?" he asked, marveling. He hadn't seen any sign of Super activity in over a decade, and now a little six-year-old girl had reassured him that they were still alive and well.

"Please don't tell my mom," she said, "I'm not supposed to."

"To use your powers?" Jack clarified. Violet nodded. "I already promised I wouldn't tell anyone. And I have no one to tell, Violet." He tried not to look or sound like the sadness leeching unbidden into his heart at this fact but rather like the warm happiness he'd felt when she'd locked her eyes on him. "You are the only person who can see and hear me."

She tilted her head at him. "Can't other Supers see you?" she asked. Jack shook his head.

"I don't think so. No one has seen me for 250 years."

She gasped. "You're 250 years old? _Wow_."

Jack shrugged. "Well, almost. Give or take. I stopped keeping count."

"Do you know Lucius?"

"Who?"

"You know, Frozone!"

"Oh! Yeah, he's pretty cool." He winked and smirked. It took her a moment to catch the joke and she giggled behind her hands. "He's never seen me either, though."

"Why not?"

He shrugged again. And she looked a little bit sad. "250 years is a really, really long time," she mused, "What did you do?"

By demonstration Jack called a large, delicately detailed snowflake out of the air, floating it over his open palm. Her eyes widened in awe. "So you _do_ make the snow!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands and looking giddily up at him. "You really did make this snow just for me!"

Jack felt he might be glowing. "I heard your wish last night."

"You did? Do you live here?"

Casting around him, Jack had to nod. "I guess I do. I go all over the world, but I always come back here. This... this is where I was made."

"Where's your mom and dad?"

The question landed harder than Jack wanted it to. "I don't have any," he admitted, and Violet looked really upset.

"What about friends?"

Determined now to spin the conversation around, Jack said the most positive thing he could think of, beaming down at her. "Just you, Violet Parr." and her eyes grew so wide Jack wondered if she would disappear on him again, but she didn't. Her small little hand reached forward but then she stopped herself again, appearing to be thinking hard.

"Jack Frost," she said, testing the name in her mouth. Her hand drew towards him again and he couldn't stop himself from leaning in just a little.

"Just Jack is okay," he whispered carefully; anticipating, despite himself, everything he expected to go wrong...

"Jack, are you _real_?"

It hit him like a physical blow, coming so precisely from this young child. He exhaled through the ebbing pain, refusing to break eye contact with her. Such piercing round blue eyes, so like his own but so different at the same time. Jack had asked himself (and the Moon) that same question countless times over his long life, and never received an answer, never reached one that satisfied him; he hated the thought he might not be real, really might be only a figment of someone's imagination at any time – and the instant the myth of Jack Frost died out of common knowledge, so would Jack Frost himself.

Terrifying himself in doing it, Jack held his hand out palm-up toward Violet, and her eyes trailed to it briefly before locking on his again. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

After a tiny hesitation, Violet Parr's tiny hand edged closer. Closer. Jack's heart pounded rabbit-fast in his chest and it grew hard for him to breathe. When her fingers stretched just hairs away from his he couldn't take it anymore shut his eyes tight couldn't bear to see her pass through him like he wasn't there because he _wasn't_ there he never _was_ and-

…!

Pinpoints of fire on his icy palm.

Her fingertips.

Jack wanted to collapse at the heat flaring through his body, from those little points of contact. Tears sprang to his eyes again and it all felt _amazing_. He still couldn't open his eyes and have it all turn out to be false but he closed his hand around her fingers and squeezed them and felt her warmth and she complained that his hands were really cold and he hiccuped on a sob.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Violet asked him, and he looked at her, eyes dazzling.

"I'm fantastic," he breathed. "Violet, you are _incredible_. Don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise. Promise?"

But _Daddy_ was Mr. Incredible. But... Jack Frost had also said she was Very Special. Maybe he didn't know that much...

But Jack actually knew just enough, and he smiled so hugely at her, looking ready to just _hug_ her and never let go if she gave him permission, that she decided she would mind him and promise him.

And finally he stood straight and steadied his staff in his hand and somehow she understood he was leaving. "Jack!" she blurted before she thought twice; he'd already leapt onto the wind, but he halted for her. "Can I see you again?"

Not even hesitating, he grinned at her, an impish smirk that promised so much more than merely _seeing_ him again. "Of course. Tonight, if you want. Look for me." Enthusiastically she nodded, and with nary a blink he whipped away on a gust of wind up into the air, onward to the sky. Violet watched him go, could faintly hear him shouting in elation. She grinned. And realized.

She'd made a new friend already.

And, he was the _coolest_ friend ever!


	4. Belief

**(Updates shall be on the weekends from now on cos it's easier for me to take a few minutes to do that during such times.)**

**One of the funner things about rereading these chapters again is noticing all the references my subconscious snuck in to all my other fandoms. Some of them are pretty obvious if you know them, others I think are rather blink-and-you-miss-it. Not that I'm setting you on a scavenger hunt, but I love it when other people get my art. :) (Don't we all?)  
**

**Thank you to my new followers and favors and lurkers, and please enjoy!**

* * *

_"Are you Jack Frost?"_

_"Will I get to see you again?"_

–

He couldn't believe it. He _couldn't_. _Believe it_.

He'd been _seen_! He'd been _named_! 250 years and a little girl in Burgess, Pennsylvania, that he'd never seen before, knew his name and believed in him!

Jack nearly fell out of the air as it all hit him again. The rush, the sheer unadulterated _exhilaration_. He was _real_, he _existed_, Violet Parr gave him form!

He swept his staff out in front of him and snow tumbled onto sleeping Westminster below. The Moon shone brightly on the top of the cloud cover, illuminating the alien landscape. Chuckling to himself, Jack called the Wind to stir the nearest clouds up into mountains, hills and valleys and the occasional curlicue, and he slalomed through them. He'd left the continental United States just hours ago. He had a while yet before he would be back to visit little Violet Parr again like he promised he would. He could have bounced in his anticipation were he on solid ground. He couldn't help it!

"How _did_ that even happen?" he asked the Moon, not really expecting an answer. "250 years of nothing working and all of a sudden..." he trailed off, arcing up into a halt to face the Moon, shining impassively down on him. His eyes narrowed skeptically. "I don't believe you had anything to do with it, though," he continued, maybe a little bitter about the Man in the Moon's lack of involvement in his life. "When have you ever helped me? All you've ever done for me is tell me my name..." And he became pensive again, bordering on melancholy. "How long will her belief last?" he dared to utter, hugging his staff a little without realizing it. He hated that thought. He didn't want to see that day. But he had a dreadful feeling it would come. Children all over the world stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy when they stopped losing baby teeth; Santa when they caught Mom and Dad setting presents under the tree; the Easter Bunny when they outgrew the excitement of egg hunts. When reality crushed dreams, they stopped believing in the Sandman.

What did Jack Frost ever have? Just a throwaway line in a Christmas song – overshadowed again by Santa Clause because _he_ was more liked than his snowballs and fun times. Snow melted, but Christmas presents lasted. Any thoughts of Jack Frost lasted as long as the holiday specials and ice on the windows. There was no such thing as a mall Jack Frost.

Violet wouldn't have any visual reminders of his existence except _himself, _and he was only around in the winter. How long would she go on remembering that she saw him when no one else believed?

Anxiety shot through him and he left the snowing clouds behind, turning back westward. He couldn't handle it; he dreaded being forgotten, unbelieved in, if he wasn't by Violet's side every moment to keep on her mind.

A quiet, rational part of his mind spoke up that he was being ridiculous – when children Violet's age believed something was real, they believed it with all their might. She wouldn't just turn around and deny his existence.

And besides, children only thought of Santa and the Easter Bunny at particular times of the year, too, and that never stopped their belief.

But Jack knew belief in the intangible was a brittle thing. What could he do to keep anyone from convincing Violet he didn't actually exist? That he was "just an expression"? Very little, he realized, and this slowed his pace momentarily. But then he braced his resolve and continued on at speed. Whatever ended up happening, he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least _try_ to preserve Violet's belief in him for as long as possible.

She'd _looked_ at him. She'd _seen_ him. She'd said his _name_. She'd _touched_ him. Chills shot up and down his spine, raced through his limbs at the recollection of it all. The echoes of joy charging him up and setting his hair on end. That feeling... he _refused_ to let it go, give it up. He was _not_ going to separate himself from that, at all costs. He was not losing this. Never. Not for one second.

Burgess appeared below and he dove. It was still only late afternoon; it still snowed. Jack called for even more to dump down. He could create snow days for a week if he wanted to; he thought he just might. He did not want to miss any possible moment, not one opportunity.

Jack drifted by Violet's house just to check in, peeking in the windows. She was watching TV, curled up with what looked like a mug of hot chocolate – hard to tell over her shoulder. A little blonde boy also sat on the couch, on the opposite end. So Violet had a little brother. Jack wondered if she had told the little boy about him.

Why wasn't she outside? He'd seen other kids playing together in front yards, in the park. Why didn't Violet join them?

Her mother appeared and he saw her lips move. Violet shook her head, looked down. Jack settled out of the air onto the porch and grew more attentive. Violet was shy, he realized with a start, recalling her body language at their first meeting, how she'd initially retreated from his offered hand. And he hadn't seen her in Burgess before today...

She was new in town. That had to be it. She didn't have any friends here yet, and she wasn't brave enough to go out and try even when she had the perfect chance.

The unhappy thought occurred to him that her ability to turn invisible might actually be more than just her superpower, but also her strongest defense, to the point it even _enabled_ her shyness. No one could make her interact with other people if they couldn't find her, right?

Jack called a snowball into his hand, bounced it a few times. He knew just the thing he could do to help her open up a little, but she needed to be in with a group of other kids to make it work...

The laughter and chatter of young voices, muffled by the snow, caught his attention and he zoomed around to the front of the house. These kids, he knew. Ten-year-old Brad Rydinger and his brother Tony, and Pam Sanders, the latter two Violet's age. He knew exactly what to do. He threw the snowball at the living room window, right where Violet could see it, and bounded up to watch from the roof.

The noise startled the kids, too. They were all still watching the window when Violet's face appeared between the blinds.

"Isn't that the new family that moved in?" Brad murmured. Pam shrugged. Tony waved. Violet eventually chanced a timid wave back. Tony gestured for her to come out. Taken aback, Violet hesitated, then vanished from sight only to reappear at the opened door. "Want to play?" Tony called to her. Jack squatted on the eave above the door to hear better. She didn't answer for a long time. "I'm Tony! What's your name?"

"Who's at the door, sweetie?" Mom's voice came from inside the house. Brad approached the porch to politely introduce himself and the others.

"Who threw the snowball?" Violet asked, looking rather cross. Jack's spirits fell – this wasn't the way things were supposed to go! And he couldn't just pitch another snowball when everyone was looking at each other...

All the kids denied it. Violet narrowed her eyes, brows angling down severely. "Liars," she said.

"Vi," Mom chided, touching her hair. Violet jerked away, returning to the couch. Jack shifted onto his knees and leaned forward, hanging down so he could look in through the doorway without her seeing him. The kids at the door looked nervous. They weren't lying!

"We just wanted to play," Pam offered. Mom's eyes softened sympathetically.

"Did you hear that, Violet? Why don't you go out and play, and make some new friends?"

"Yeah, let's be friends!" Tony supplemented, even poking his head in under Mom's arm to grin winningly at Violet. For a brief moment Violet looked interested, but her expression quickly grew hard again.

"I already have a new friend, Mom. I don't want any more."

"Violet," Mom started to say, but then her daughter disappeared into her room. Biting her lip, she turned back to the youngsters still on her doorstep. "I'm sorry, kids. My daughter is very shy and she's still upset about moving. Will any of you see her at school?"

"I think she's going to be in our class," Pam said, looking at Tony, who nodded.

"Please try to make friends with her. She's a nice girl," Helen assured them.

"Okay, we will," the kids promised, and they turned and left.

Sighing, Jack pushed himself back up and slipped his feet over the edge of the roof, swinging them moodily as he bowed his head in resignation. That hadn't worked at all like he'd wanted. Maybe he shouldn't be so surprised, though. Violet wasn't like other kids, after all. She was a Super. She felt different as a baseline without also being an outsider. She'd been through a lot already and adjusting was going to be hard for her.

_"I already have a new friend."_

Did that mean _him_?

His heart swelled at the thought, though he still wished she could have at least given it a try with the other kids. _They_ were always going to be real. Himself... well, that he couldn't guarantee.

Sighing again in defeat, Jack slid off the roof into the Wind, and he let it carry him up and away. He would be back again in a few hours. Right now, he just needed time to think.

–

"That wasn't very nice, young lady," Mom said when she entered Violet's room. Unsympathetic, Violet slouched deeper under her blanket, scowling. "You haven't played with anyone since we got here, and it's very bad manners to accuse someone of lying when you're also lying."

"But I _did_ already make a friend this morning, Mom!" Violet protested, voice keening into a whine.

"Really?" Mom said, eyebrow raised and hands on her hips; Helen had seen no one come up the front yard the whole time her daughter was outside. "What's their name?"

"Jack Frost," Violet said, eyes earnest.

Sighing, Mom dropped her hands to her sides. "Jack Frost?" she repeated. Violet nodded.

"He's got white hair and he has this huge funny-looking stick, and he doesn't wear shoes," she said rapid-fire fast, "And his skin is really cold."

"Where did you see him? Did _he_ tell you his name was Jack Frost?"

"He was in the back yard-"

"The back yard?" Mom repeated, eyes really wide. Helen hadn't been keeping as diligent an eye on the back yard, figuring it was safer since Violet wouldn't have been visible from the street anyway. Her eyebrows angled down toward her nose and Violet quieted. Mom was upset; maybe she wasn't happy that Violet had made a new friend after all, since she didn't get to meet him first. "Did... Violet, did he try to make you go anywhere with him?"

The conversation had become very serious, and Violet wasn't sure why. "No, Mom. We just talked. And he can fly, and he can make ice like Lucius, and-"

"He's a Super?"

"Well," Violet shifted, "I'm not sure. But he said I was the only one who could see him."

The tension cracked off of Helen's shoulders and overwhelming relief fell into its place. She could have collapsed from it, but she settled for a grateful exhale. _Imaginary friend_. Not a stranger nosing in her back yard. Her hand rested over her heart; it could only pound so fast when her children were involved. She breathed in and out again and Violet noticed that she did not look upset anymore. In fact, now she looked really happy!

"What else did Jack tell you?"

"Mmm..." Violet stalled while she remembered, sitting up straighter now that she knew she wasn't in trouble anymore, "He said he did make all the snow for me. And he said I was very special." She smiled. "Just like you always tell me."

Wherever this persona of Jack Frost had come from, Helen decided she liked Violet's newest imaginary friend. "Well, he sounds like a very nice boy," she put in. Violet nodded with enthusiasm.

"He had to go make snow days in other places, but he'll be back tonight," she supplied. Helen smiled and chuckled, appreciative of her daughter's ingenuity.

"Should we save some supper for him, do you think?" She asked, playing along.

"Maybe. Just in case." And Violet looked to be thinking so seriously about whether Jack Frost would be hungry when he came back to Burgess that Helen had to leave just so she could laugh at the entire situation.

But then she quieted and stepped back from the situation. Okay; an imaginary friend was better than nothing. Helen believed that, for a six-year-old. But she still hoped Tony and Pam would be able to get through to Violet on her first day of school. The last thing she wanted to come out of this was her daughter to isolate herself from real people just because those she created from her imagination were more interesting. It had already started, in fact; she had just seen that minutes ago.

Meanwhile Violet wondered what might be Jack Frost's favorite food. She entertained the idea of sneaking her vegetables out to him, but that didn't sound very nice. Jack Frost was her _friend_. You gave things like cookies and candy to your friends. So maybe she would have to eat the string beans at the table after all. Violet pouted in protest of this unpleasant thought, but she knew by now that it would do her no favors to complain to _Mom_ about it.

The snow still fell down outside and Violet gazed out her window at it. Her first thoughts were actually of those kids who came to her front door. Really, they all had looked like they might be friendly to her. But she had been too excited about meeting Jack Frost – a friend with _superpowers_ was so much better! – to want to pay them any attention. And, she was also scared. The snowball against the window had frightened her, the loud _bam!_ jarring her and nearly making her spill her hot chocolate. _That_ wasn't nice of _them_.

Her shyness was a big part of it, too. Making friends was hard. She really was too scared to try. Sometimes she wished she could vanish, or use her force fields to keep other kids from talking to her. Especially when they liked to come to her in groups. Maybe if just Tony had come to the door she would have tried. But three, including a big kid, was just too much.

So now, especially after Mom had scolded her for it, she felt a little bad about it. But she didn't know how to fix things at the moment.

Perhaps if she saw them again, it would not be so bad.

In the meantime... she did not want to dwell on it. She would play outside in the snow again. She had tried to make a snowman earlier, but the snow would not hold together. So she had settled for a couple of snow angels. Maybe the snow would be better for snowmen, now?

Violet bundled herself up again and went into her back yard. And every so often she looked up for any signs of Jack Frost. He had said he wouldn't be back until nighttime, but she was so eager to see him again she hoped he would turn up very early. One couldn't be sure, right?

–

Jack thickened the ice cover on the lake. With all the cold and snow, it only seemed fair that the kids be able to go ice skating. So far, none of them had tried, but oh, give it time. Someone always came out with skates sooner or later, in this town. Finishing his task, Jack alit toes first on the center of the frozen lake, precisely where he had first emerged 250 years ago. It always felt unreal to come back to this spot, stand here year after year. 250 years saw a _lot_ of change to the town of Burgess, but this lake had not been touched at all. Not expanded, or filled in, or diverted. In all its incarnations, Burgess was built _around_ the lake. Jack couldn't help thinking that had to be significant, if only because _he _had been born from the lake. But he also knew it was preposterous to think the lake had been preserved for that same reason.

It certainly wasn't because of the Man in the Moon.

Whatever the case, standing here in the center of the lake on a pane of ice, encased by the minty smell of evergreens, grounded him. It seemed to always bring him back to something important. He could remember the through-lines of his life if he stood here, better than he could in other places.

He didn't believe his foiled plan to get Violet to play was the reason he needed to stand there at that moment, but maybe it had a lot to do with it anyway. It usually worked, when he did that. Throw a snowball. Getting all sorts of kids to have fun together was simply one of those things that he _did_. To have it backfire rattled him.

Okay; he screwed up, there. But he would still go back to Violet that night. His failure only made him want to try harder, for her. He felt like she needed him.

(Speak nothing of the turnabout: _he _needed _her_.)


	5. Faith

**Soooooo super-sorry for the long delay, you guys. In all senses of the word, I got _swamped_ with school things - tests, papers, more tests and papers, and lab writeups and OMG. I love being a science major, but the formal lab reports are a _pain_...  
**

**ANYWAY, getting back on schedule as much as I can, here, ie. one new chapter every week or so. I have an exam this Friday to study for this week, and then of course there'll be ALL the midterms coming up, not to mention a project for my embryology class that I'll be working on through October and...**

**Well, the short version is, updates are probably not going to be every weekend. BUT, like I've said, this is pretty much all written (although I've been working on adding things to the later part of the story and now I've gone and written myself into a corner with that, so, uh, we'll see how that goes). I'll do my best! I haven't forgotten about you!**

**Thank you so much again for the reviews, favorites, follows, and generally lurking around, and above all for your patience! Please enjoy! 3**

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Night came with the snowfall's end. Well over a foot of snow covered the ground, and it was sure to freeze overnight. Violet's elementary school had already called a second snow day. Violet herself glanced repeatedly out the window for a sign of Jack Frost, to her parents' amusement. "Mom, can I have some extra dessert to take to Jack?" she asked.

_Nice try_, Helen thought. "Why don't you share yours, Violet? That would mean a lot more to him." Violet thought about it for a moment. There wasn't a way out of this one.

"Okay," she murmured. But that meant _Dash_ would have more dessert than either of them and _that_ didn't seem very fair even if she was being nice. She choked down her vegetables because she wanted to leave the table as soon as possible to wait for Jack. Then Mom fixed a small plate of the leftovers (no vegetables) and bade Violet wait inside until she saw him – it wouldn't be very fun to sit outside in the cold.

"I'll bring your dessert when he comes," she assured.

So Violet waited.

And she waited.

The plate of leftovers next to her grew cold. She could heat it up if Jack wanted her to. After several long, hopeful minutes, Violet grew restless. She wished she could tell time; she liked on TV when characters checked their wristwatches when someone else was running late. In Violet's mind, Jack was taking much too long. But Violet was an extraordinarily patient child when it came to certain things, and it just so happened this was one of those things she could be patient about.

Mom and Daddy cleared the table. Dash had his dessert, and then he started watching TV. Jack had still not come. Violet looked woefully at the plate in front of her, thinking of the dessert she wanted. Once more she scanned the sky out the window as best she could. Mom had turned on the porch light. No sign of Jack in the yard. For a moment Violet thought he might have become invisible to her, too, but that couldn't be right. He _said-_

"Is Jack still not here yet?" Mom asked, settling next to Violet on the couch. Biting her lip, Violet shrugged. Sensing her daughter's disappointment, Helen offered, "Maybe he needed to make snow for someone, last-minute. I'm sure he'll be here soon." And meanwhile she worried that Violet would have her own imaginary friend treat her this way.

This troubled Violet – Jack had said _she_ was Very Special. It seemed _wrong_ that he would put her aside to make snow for someone else who might be Very Special. That made her feel jealous, and jealousy made her feel sick. "I think he can't tell time," she argued, projecting her own inability to make herself feel better. Mom agreed that was a _much_ better reason.

"Do you want your dessert now?" It was getting late; Violet would have a tummyache if it was put off much later. Violet almost shook her head – it _would_ be nice to share it with Jack once he got there – but her love of ice cream won out and she nodded. She would try very hard to leave some for him.

"Wait..." she said when Mom got up, and she rose onto her knees, pressing palms and nose to the glass. A quick dim flicker of white – like Jack's hair! It settled in the middle of the back yard and as it approached the porch light's glow it resolved down into the shape of Jack Frost.

Jack spotted Violet and waved. Grinning, Violet waved back. "He's here, Mom!" Violet cheered excitedly, sliding off the couch and running around to the sliding back door. She pulled it open. "Jack!" she called, breathless in her rush of excitement, "You came back!"

Swinging his staff over his shoulder, Jack grinned back at her and winked. "Of course I did." He skipped up onto the porch and squatted on the mat in front of her. She reached out the door and he carefully took her delicate hand in his; the iciness of his fingers was even more alarming when she could also feel how warm her house was, and Violet wanted to jerk her hand away, but she was too mesmerized by his presence.

"Violet," Mom's voice came from underwater, across a field, so far away, "You're letting the cold in. Why don't you invite Jack inside?" And Jack looked through the window at Helen, who had only the fondest (and yet so sad) eyes for her daughter. Violet followed his gaze, registered her mother's request, and blushed.

"Would you like to come in, Jack?" she asked, gently tugging his hand toward the inside. His smile faltered and she was afraid he'd say "no," but then his face lit up again and he straightened.

"Sure. Thank you." He stepped his bare white feet over the threshold and then spotted the plate of pork roast held sort of in his direction.

"We saved some dinner for you," Helen said, and Jack nearly jumped, wide-eyed gaze at Violet's mother. But her eyes listed at least a foot to his left, closer to the door that Violet was now pushing closed. Despite himself his shoulders slumped. Of course Violet said something to her mother, and of course to _her_ he was just an imaginary friend. Well, he thought consolingly, watching how Violet eagerly requested the ice cream now and please could they eat in her room, she promised they wouldn't spill; grown-ups had never been his area, anyway. What mattered was Violet.

"Do you want this heated up?" Mom asked, holding the dinner plate out again, a good twenty degrees off from Jack. Violet looked embarrassed for her mother's inability to see him. And somehow, that made the situation _funny_.

"It's okay. I don't need to eat," he explained. Violet relayed this information and soon after disappearing into the kitchen, Mom came back with a bowl of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate syrup.

"Be _very_ careful," she cautioned, and then, holding the bowl with both hands, Violet led Jack into her room. She closed the door, and settled on the carpeted floor. Jack took in her room properly now – he could only see so much through the blinds on her window, last night. Various stuffed animals crowded the dresser and lined a small bookshelf, but her favorite seemed to be the purplish-grey plush rabbit at her pillow. The fur on the ears was worn from being carried around by them, and the baby-blue bow around its neck had seen better days. But it was obviously well-loved and cared for: from the looks of it, the cross-stitched nose had been redone with at least two different threads. Lines of stitches crossed the legs and body in random places, indicating minor tears that Mom had darned up over the years.

Without invitation Jack sat cross-legged, staff across his lap, in front of Violet, who leaned against a big pillow at the base of her trundle bed. Her bed covers were lavender, posters of ponies already up on the walls. Every bit a little girl's room. He smiled at it.

"Would you like some?" Violet asked, holding the bowl of ice cream out to him. Typically, Jack didn't actually feel any hunger, and hardly ever thought of food. But when he did feel like eating food, he knew by now that he liked sweets. Ice cream with chocolate syrup suited him just fine. Nodding, Jack carefully transferred the bowl into his hands and took a good-sized spoonful of the dessert.

Oh yeah. This was the _good _stuff. He almost took another bite, but he'd seen how little Violet had been given in the first place. He passed the bowl back. "Thank you," he said once the cool creaminess had slipped down his throat, licking the sweet chocolate taste off his lips. Violet smiled.

"You're welcome." She worked on finishing the ice cream, watching him the entire time with those inquisitive blue eyes. Jack wished he didn't mind her unwavering gaze, but he was so unused to being seen that he quickly felt uncomfortable. He tried to distract himself by reading the titles of the books she had. Most of them were expected for a child her age just learning to read – Dr. Seuss, Dick and Jane, Angus, several Little Golden Books. But then, a Nancy Drew popped out – was Mom going through it with her, or was Violet on chapter books already? He supposed it was possible; she seemed like a bright kid, very discerning...

"I saw your snowman," Jack finally broke the silence. Beaming, he turned back to Violet's absorbed gaze. "I've never seen one that perfect – how did you get his head and body so round?" Indeed, not one flake had been out of place. Violet drew her empty bowl into her chest and fidgeted. She looked to the closed door, where it occurred now to Jack that her mother might be listening in. And it dawned on him for the second time that day. "You know I won't tell. Is it another power that you have?"

Looking relieved that she didn't have to admit it herself, Violet relaxed and nodded, placing the bowl down in front of her and lifting her hands up with the palms out. She screwed up her face for a second and a globe of purplish-blue energy snapped into the air between them. Jack jumped, falling back on a hand, watching the streams of energy flow across the sphere. "What is that?" he asked, in awe. As quickly as it appeared, it crackled out of existence. Violet's features smoothed again.

"Force field," she said, "I used them to make the snowman." Like using a pail to make sandcastles; that wasn't anything to feel sorry for.

"That's great," Jack praised, a smile stretching his mouth, and the little girl's dark eyes brightened. "Very clever."

"Really? You don't think I'm weird?"

"Why would I?" Jack asked, surprised, before he could think. But then he did think...

Jack had seen a _lot_ of weirdness in his time. A six-year-old girl who could turn invisible and project force fields was hardly the worst of it. And just look at _him_. The proper perspective, though, was this little girl was forbidden by law from showing those qualities that made her so "weird" – it had already been hard for child Supers to fit in before that law went into effect. Now all that came of it was child Supers being made to feel like something was _wrong_ with them for having powers. And nothing was wrong with them _at all_ – they were simply _different_.

Jack had seen it all before, played out too many times and often ending in too much grief. Would that he could protect Violet – and all those other children – from that.

"I don't know," Violet responded, bringing his attention back to her. "I thought my powers were bad. Mom says not to use them. Daddy says they make me special. But they both say it wouldn't be good if other kids found out about them."

"...But do other kids think you're weird, anyway?" Jack dared to press. She wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise. And when Violet suddenly looked about to cry he knew – with a horrible pang of guilt – that he'd hit it right on the head.

"They call me a freak because I don't want to play with them," she confirmed, big tears already spilling down her face. "And I'm scared to play with them because I don't want to accidentally use my powers because that would get me in big trouble and we'd have to move again and-" she cut herself off like she'd said too much again. Jack leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Violet," he said in a soft voice, gently squeezing her shoulder, and she calmed a little, big wet eyes trained on his. "You're not a freak. I promise. You're a little different, but different is okay. Different is _great._ Do you understand?"

Not looking like she did, she nodded anyway. She would understand some day, anyway, if she even remembered. But his words nevertheless seemed to comfort her; her tears ceased, and then they were both silent. Jack looked around the room again. "How long can you stay?"

"As long as I want. Hey," he said, leaning and reaching toward the book shelf, "Would you like me to read a story to you? How does that sound?" As if it could be no other way, Violet eagerly reached for the plush rabbit on her bed and hugged it before responding "Yes, please." And laughing at the very idea that he, Jack Frost, was actually going to read a bedtime story to the first child to see and hear him, Jack swept up the air onto Violet's bed, patting the space next to him. Without hesitating, Violet clambered up onto the mattress, but instead of landing next to him she actually settled onto his lap.

Thank the Man in the Moon or whoever cared that Jack didn't have a heart attack right there!

He disguised the long tail end of his shock by shifting to a more comfortable position against the wall, and then he opened the Nancy Drew book he'd picked to the first page. He started to read aloud and Violet settled against his chest, head along his shoulder. Afterward, he would marvel that she didn't seem bothered by how cold he was. Aside from her occasional question about a big word, she was completely silent, and very still.

Eventually her breaths grew long and her little body slackened into him, and Jack realized she was sound asleep, a pleasantly warm weight on his legs, head pillowed in the crook of his neck. Lips curling up into a gentle smile, he put the book down and dared to wrap his arms around her sleeping form in a quick sort of hug. Quickly growing self-conscious – what if she woke up? – he changed the embrace to setting her down to dream the night away, and he tucked the covers around her just like he'd watched mothers do over the years. He made sure the rabbit was securely in her arms before picking up his staff again to leave. It felt awkward to just leave her there without properly saying goodbye. Should he leave a sign that he would return? Rubbing the back of his neck, he cast around the room for... anything. There was a drawing pad on the dresser, and that would do. Picking up the closest marker, he scrawled a message for Violet to find the next morning. Yes, that would do just fine.

A tendril of gold sand gently lit the room and Jack took that as his cue to leave. Before he left, though, he was able to see it form a corporeal image above Violet's closed eyes, and she smiled in her sleep. The image was small, but unmistakable: Jack Frost, and a little girl with long hair, flying side by side.

Unable to contain the warm feeling welling up inside of him, Jack slipped out the door the instant Mom opened it to check in on her daughter. Another moment of distraction saw him out the sliding back door, and he whipped up into the tree with the swing in it. Settling on the branch from where he'd first watched Violet wish for snow, Jack realized everything the past twenty-four hours had brought him.

Floored by it, he peered through the tree branches above to the glow of the Moon, partly obscured by lingering clouds. Heart quickening as he finally dared to believe in all of it, Jack uttered a small word of thanks. "I'm sorry I doubted you."


	6. Be Not Lonely

**Moar apologies for moar delay. Moar school swampage happened.**

**I can't believe I'm already 1/4 of the way through my senior year (midterm grades are due 10/21). I thought I had all this time left to figure my life out, you see.**

**Anyhoo.**

**Thank you all so much for following, faving, reviewing, and generally lurking. You make my day. ^_^**

* * *

Violet woke early the next morning, having slept well. Bleary-eyed, she gazed around her dimly-lit room. Her lamp hadn't been turned on...!

Oh.

...Maybe that meant Violet wasn't scared of the dark anymore?

After Jack's smooth, low voice had lulled her to sleep, Violet had dreamed vividly of him – of flying over the oceans by his side. It was effortless to fly with him – she even wanted to try it then and there to see if _that _was another power she had. But all the times she'd attempted it in the past and the memory of a broken arm stopped her. Jack could fly. She couldn't.

There were no sounds indicating anyone else was awake. Violet wondered what time it was. Stretching, she tumbled out of bed and looked out her window. The snow still piled high. _All for her_. She grinned smugly.

When she walked past her dresser, the drawing pad on top caught her eye – someone else had drawn in it!

The picture was in blue marker: a snowflake inside a hasty circle. Wobbly lines crossed over the snowflake inside the circle – Violet realized it was one of her force fields. Jack Frost must have left this picture for her! And then she spotted the words printed in clear block letters: "I'll come back." When? Tonight? Wide awake, Violet carefully tore the drawing from the pad and placed it on her bed. With a little effort she pulled out the trundle and removed a big shoebox that she kept her special treasures in. The drawing from Jack Frost went right in, no question. Before replacing the lid she studied it a little longer. She wished she could have stayed awake to say goodbye to him. There was no way to know how long he had actually stayed... The Nancy Drew book still sat on her nightstand, but Jack hadn't marked where he stopped. Whenever he had left, though, he had still taken a moment to leave this for her, his own way of saying goodbye for now. And that made her feel really jittery-happy. Like she was special, just as he told her.

Violet trailed her fingers across the picture wistfully, then placed the lid on the shoebox and put it all away again. She left her room and wandered through the still house. It was sort of spooky to be the only one awake, she realized, but she knew there was nothing to fear. Mom or Daddy would be up soon. She turned on the TV for company, though – it was just _too_ quiet. The news covered the snow again. Violet already knew school was canceled, so she wasn't interested. Eventually she found a cartoon she liked, and she watched it until Daddy came yawning into the living room.

"What are you doing up, Vi?" he asked, peering fuzzily at what she was watching. Violet shrugged. "Have you had breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," Violet mumbled.

"Would you like me to make some eggs for you? You can reheat them when you get hungry."

"Okay, Daddy." Daddy shuffled into the kitchen and soon Violet could hear the sounds of eggs cooking. The aroma hit her nose and she almost felt hungry, but eating still did not appeal to her this early in the morning.

But she grew bored of the next cartoon that came on, and by then her tummy started rumbling, so she followed her nose to the still-warm plate of eggs sitting at her spot at the table. Daddy looked up from his newspaper at her, smiled in acknowledgment, took a sip of coffee, and resumed reading. Violet picked up her fork and lifted the first bite to her mouth. Daddy always made good eggs. Her breakfasting passed by in silence, and then Daddy left for work. And then the house was quiet again.

Snow drifted down outside in a calming way. Violet watched it from the couch for a long time. She wondered if Tony and the other kids would walk by her house again. Maybe today she could be brave enough to join them. Somehow staying home all day again seemed very boring even though there was plenty of snow to entertain herself with. She had already made a snowman yesterday, and snow angels. She wanted to try to make an igloo, or maybe even try having a snowball fight. There was a park nearby; maybe Mom could take her there today?

When would Jack come back? What if she was away when he returned? Could he still find her by flying?

While she waited for something to happen, Violet went back into her room and tried to read the Nancy Drew book. She now heard the narration in Jack's voice, not Mom's. She thought she liked it better. But the reading went rather slow – lots of big words that she had to sound out. But she made it through a chapter by herself. Her brain felt tired after that, but she couldn't wait to tell Mom! And Jack! She should tell Jack, too, when he arrived.

Mom was up, drinking coffee and watching the news, just like yesterday, when Violet came out of her room again. But this time, Jack stood in the center of the room, and he swiveled on the spot at the sound of her door. His face brightened at the sight of her and she jumped. "Jack! What are you doing here?"

Helen also started, and turned to see her daughter looking toward the coffee table. Her imaginary friend stayed the night on the couch, perhaps?

Shrugging, Jack tapped his staff emphatically on the carpet. "I said I'd come back, didn't I?"

"I thought you were going to be gone until night again." Violet came closer, glad to see him regardless – that much could be seen from the way her eyes sparkled, alone. Helen briefly reconsidered her steadfast hope that Violet would outgrow her imaginary friends – none of them had ever made her this happy and bright.

"I can visit during the day if I want to. It's more fun, anyway. Hey, do you have ice skates? We should go to the lake today," he suggested, nodding his head toward Mom.

Also nodding, Violet turned fully to face her mother. "Can we, Mom? Can me and Jack go ice skating?"

"Jack and _I_, Vi. I don't know if the ice will be thick enough."

"It is," Jack cut in, proudly placing his hands on his hips, "I froze the lake over myself."

"Jack says it is, Mom," Violet relayed.

Helen's eyes crinkled in knowing amusement and she hid her smile behind a sip of coffee. Of _course_ Jack would say that. At any rate, the lake was within walking distance, so it would be easy enough to come back home if it turned out "Jack" was wrong. "Yes, of course, dear. I'll take you in a few hours if you're ready."

"When will that be?" Violet asked, already going toward her room to pick out clothes – her skates were still in a yet-to-be-unpacked box of seasonal wear; Mom would have to find them for her.

Mom glanced to the clock, pursing her lips. "How about after lunchtime? That will be around 12:30. Okay?"

That felt like too long to wait, but Violet agreed to it. Now that Jack was here, she knew she wouldn't be too bored. He followed her into her room and watched her rummage through her dresser.

"I found your picture," Violet told him as she pulled out a dark green turtleneck.

"What did you think? I know I'm not very good at drawing..."

"I liked it. It looked really cool. Hey, do you think we can do that?"

"Do what?" Jack asked in confusion, now stepping aside so Violet could search for a pair of jeans. She straightened and held her hands up to suggest her idea.

"Could I hold one of your snowflakes in my force field? Like the picture?"

"Do you want to try it now?" He was already calling frost to his fingertips. The little girl vigorously nodded, hopping in anticipation, and _ooh-_ing when a perfect, large snowflake materialized over Jack's palm, just like when they'd first met yesterday. The look of concentration came over her face again as a globe of blue energy popped around the snowflake. Jack withdrew his hand and it all remained suspended in the air. Face still scrunched, Violet managed to squint one eye open to see what she had done. She gasped in amazement, and the field snapped apart like a popped bubble, the flake drifting to the floor.

"Oops! Sorry," she mumbled, face flushing before she hid it in her dark hair. Jack chuckled indulgently and pushed a black strand behind her ear.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. That was cool, wasn't it?" he asked, and Violet's cheer came back. "Want to try again?"

She did. A few trials later she managed to look at her feat with both eyes wide open, and Jack applauded her after she broke the force field. "I wish I could show Mom," she mentioned. Doing his level best not to be discouraging, Jack shrugged one shoulder.

"Maybe someday, with your help." Adults were not his area, but it was better than telling her it was useless to ever expect an adult could see him, anyway. Besides, Jack Frost brought everything that adults grew up to hate about winter – snow and ice on the roads, frozen water pipes, ruined rose gardens, reckless children and worries about thin ice and hypothermia. Grownups and parents dreaded winter's threats of snowdrifts and icicles; only kids saw the wonderland.

Jack didn't need Mom to see him. Just Violet. And then, if they were both lucky, her friends. "I don't think she'd be able to see the snowflake."

"Am I _really_ the only person who can see you?" Violet asked, eyes growing big and sad for him – he could barely stand it.

"You're the only one I've met so far," he admitted; he always held onto the possibility that there were more people who believed in him than he thought (he thought: not more than one) and he simply had not encountered any of them. But it was a foolish hope, by now. Other spirits saw him, but humans – children – never did.

"_Why?_" Her brow tensed with the desire to understand. Jack shifted. Explaining how belief worked couldn't be the best idea for a child so young. But he couldn't think of even a white lie that wouldn't leave him feeling like a traitor to her faith in him.

With a weary shrug, Jack knelt down to her level, locking twin pairs of blue eyes – one young and wondering, the other ancient and yet ageless; both so full of youth and life. "Violet Parr," he began, tasting the words as he spoke them, "I am a spirit – like, a ghost. You know that, right?" After a bit of wide-eyed hesitation, she nodded confirmingly. "Okay. Uhm, how do I explain this..." he thrust a hand through his hair, and particles of frost shuffled out and fell to the carpet where they melted. "When someone doesn't believe in me, doesn't believe that I exist..." he swallowed hard at the sudden lump in his throat but he resisted the urge to shut his eyes away from her, "They can't see me. Violet, you are the only person who can see me because you are the only person who _believes _in me."

An adult would have let the silence hang.

"What happens if I don't believe in you?"

The question clenched achingly onto his heart like a vise and he had to break away, curl over himself a moment to recover.

"What's the matter?!"

"If you stop believing in me," _**pleaseneverneverstop**_ Jack let out a shaky breath, hand gripping the front of his sweater over his heart so hard the tendons stood out, "then you won't see me anymore. I'll be invisible to you." And the way his voice broke on the last words _killed_ him inside. Violet came closer to put a steady hand on his arm.

"Jack, I will always believe in you. I _promise_."

That did it.

Before he could tamp any of the emotion down Jack felt his face crumple and he buried it in his hands before she could see, bowing forward onto his knees, ducking his head to the floor. The wetness of tears lasted between his palms and his cheeks; they came too quickly for any to freeze. His shoulders hitched on a suppressed sob and Violet was rubbing her little hand over his back like her mother did for her. And she was apologizing for making him sad and he shook his head because no, that's not it at all. "I'm really happy," he insisted, the carpet muffling his voice, "I'm so happy to hear that. You really are very special," he said, hysterical giggles falling loose from his mouth. She stayed next to him, leaning against his shoulder when he came up for air and he didn't even _think_ about the arm he threw around her until after he'd done it. She pressed her head into his collar and he realized they could _hug_ each other, but he stayed put with just the one arm. Her weight against him was so solid and _real_ and he was real _too_, for the moment, to her; and _Moon, _it felt amazing. It felt fantastic. He felt incredible.

She hadn't abandoned him. She refused to – promised, even. And she would take that promise very seriously, he knew.

Jack was no longer alone in this world.

And... oh, if only _this_ was how he could make others feel with his snowballs!

"Thank you, Violet," he whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze, "Thank you _so much_..."

Violet lifted her head and craned her gaze up to him, watching. A few tears still glistened unfallen at his eyes, but his content smile just _radiated_ happiness. "For what?" she asked quietly. He turned his eyes to her, blinked the tears down his cheeks where they crystallized into beads of ice.

"For being you. For believing in me."

_For __**saving**__ me._


	7. Slide

**If it makes you feel any better, I was bawling at the last chapter, too. I honestly completely forgot I'd written that part and it took me by surprise when I was rereading it and MY FEELINGS. **

**I apologize, again, for leaving you hanging for so long. School, and life, and then school again, got very real these past several weeks. Four weeks of classes left to go and then finals and then winterbreak! EEE!**

**Hello to my new followers, fave-ers, reviewers, etc. And hello again to those of you who've been here a while. It does my heart good to know y'all like my stuff. :)**

* * *

Jack tested the thickness of the ice while Mom helped Violet into her ice skates. Violet had grown in the past year and her skates were almost too small.

Though Jack had given his green light on the frozen lake with confidence, he felt restless about leading Violet onto the ice without taking extra precautions. Something about this lake grounded him, yes; but an implacable anxiety overtook him whenever children trod upon it. If he could stay in just one place for so long, he might take up permanent residence on the shore, guarding all the future Kristi Yamaguchi's and hockey stars of Burgess. All he could do was add layers upon frozen layers, just as well freezing the lake solid. This was all easy enough to hide from Violet's mother; the cold leeched out from the soles of his feet, traveling down through the tightly-packed ice to the first trickles of liquid water, freezing on impact. Only he knew he was doing this out of intense fear. He knew better than anyone what exposure did to a human body; when he could prevent an incident, he did try.

Violet's squeals brought his attentions over; she was trying to stand upright and steady on her skates, and not doing such a great job of it. Her skates were cheap and did not properly brace her ankles – given that she indeed outgrew them quickly, no one could fault her mother for not splurging. A pair of thick woolen socks was balled up in Mom's hands (which were also currently busy keeping younger brother Dash firmly in her lap), and Jack realized that was how they'd managed to get the skates on comfortably enough for one outing.

"Are your feet cold?" Jack asked her; his, of course, were fine, but he was still well aware of the frigid temperature.

"No!" Arms windmilling as she sought her balance, Violet stepped one skated foot, then both onto the snow-dusted ice. Jack held a hand out to her and she steadied herself with it.

"How long has it been since you last went skating?"

"I think I was four," Violet said after some effort remembering. "Do you go skating a lot?" They were closer now and she hung off his arm, feet sliding out from under her. Jack managed to keep her up.

"Yeah. Barefoot." He held up a foot, toes wiggling, for emphasis. She giggled, and then she did slip, and she fell onto her knees.

"Are you alright?" Jack and Mom asked her at the same time.

"Yeah. Jack's going to help me skate; right, Jack?" And even if she hadn't turned those round blue eyes up to him right then, he still couldn't have said "no."

"No problem. Just watch what I do for a sec, okay?" So Violet stayed on her knees, hands in her lap. Jack laid his staff down for her to guard, and spread his arms out like an airplane's wings to show her how to balance. His knees bent slightly to lower his center of gravity and he leaned forward to conserve momentum; then he pushed off the ice with one foot and slid forward. He repeated this motion on the other foot, and alternated again, a slight kick behind him at a small angle. And then he stayed both feet parallel to glide. "So, did you see how I did that?" he asked her after turning and coming back. Violet nodded and pushed to her feet, excited to try. "Go slowly; I'll stay right next to you so you won't fall, okay?"

"Okay..." She spread her arms out like Jack had, though uncertainly; Jack hovered just within her reach. The first attempt to move her foot led to a violent wobble and she flailed for his hand. "Jack...!"

"It's okay!" He caught her and stayed until she found her balance again. "Don't look down." Still holding her hand to reassure her, Jack moved in front of her. "Just look at me." Her eyes fixed obediently on his, and she took several quick breaths, scared and embarrassed. "It's okay. Steady..." Another staggering step and Violet pitched forward. Jack caught her shoulders and pushed her back to standing. "Whoa! Okay; wait and watch me again." This time Violet remained standing.

"This is so _hard_," she almost wailed.

"Just keep practicing, Vi," Mom called from the shore over Dash's fussing in her lap; he did not have his own pair of skates, but he still wanted to go onto the ice. Mom wouldn't even dream of it. Unseen by her mother, Violet rolled her eyes.

"It's like learning to ride a bike," Jack agreed. _So I hear_. "You'll get it in no time. See? It's as easy as one," he took a step forward, "two," and another step, "three!" and he coasted forward a few feet. "Now it's your turn."

Gulping in an effort to steel herself, Violet glanced down at her pigeon-toeing feet. _Just look at me._ She liked looking at Jack's eyes; they were so _pretty_. "One," he said, and she kept her gaze on him and dared a shuffling step forward. "That's it! Two..." another unsteady shuffle and she nearly fell again...! "Three!" Jack summoned the Wind to push her forward and her arms circled wildly as it threw her off-kilter. But then she bent her knees and leaned just like Jack had, and she was not falling anymore. She was sliding forward – she was skating! Her laughter broke out over the pond, echoing strangely off the ice yet muted in the cushion of snowfall. Jack's laughter joined it. After she stopped moving, Violet turned and faced him with her biggest grin yet. "I did it! Jack, did you see me? I did it!"

"That was great, Violet!" Mom called, applauding. Violet bounced a little on her skates, until they flew out from under her and she landed on her tailbone. Her cry of pain almost killed the fun, but then she resolved into giggling harder. There had been enough snow padding to prevent any damage.

"Careful, there, Miss Olympics," Jack quipped, rushing over to help her up. Her face was flushed and her eyes glittered brightly, expression the most open he had ever seen her. He pushed a disturbed piece of black hair behind her ear. "Wanna try that again? I'll teach you how to jump another time," he added with a wink. Responding with a less-practiced wink of her own, Violet took his offered hand and they set off together, moving toward the other end of the lake.

Recalling Violet's dream, Jack had to laugh again.

It was _almost_ like flying.

–

Violet wanted to take a break because her toes felt cold. Mom took off the skates and quickly shunted the small feet into the wool socks and snow boots. Then they all had hot chocolate from a thermos. Jack stayed on the lake, swaying a lazy path across the surface. Now and then he'd call a frost pattern onto a rock jutting out along the shallow edges, or onto a nearby tree. He felt Violet's eyes on him the whole time; it made him want to show off. So he made the sheets of frost even more intricate and beautiful, putting more than just his natural touch into it but actually giving it thoughts to shape it. It worked so well to entertain her that he had to stop and marvel at it himself. 250 years did a lot to desensitize him to his own work; it turned out sometimes he needed the wonder of a child right in front of him to remember the absolute _magic_ of what he did.

Pausing in the center of the lake, Jack craned his neck up, searching out the ferns of ice sprawling across the tree trunks and icicled limbs. The glaring sunlight sparkled orange and yellow and pink off the thickest layers, and despite having to squint his eyes against it, he could only think about how surreal and dreamlike it was to stand in a forest of frost that _he _made. He consciously inhaled the sharp, cold air, scented with pine needles, and the clarity took him aback. In a way he felt he was seeing this lake in the woods of Burgess, Pennsylvania for the first time, even though he'd stood in this same spot for centuries. For a glorious moment he saw the world as he believed a child saw it – all new and wonderful and anything could happen because there _is_ such a thing as magic – just look around!

A snowflake formed over his fingers and Jack stared at it. In a crazy moment he felt like he was on the edge of discovering something vital, an answer that he'd been searching for all this time, that lay right in front of him. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the flake, willing its rotating form to shift and revel the big secret. It pulled _right there_, at the borders of his mind.

Sounds like children laughing poured into the glen and the secret fell from Jack's thoughts. He looked toward the far hill, nearest the Parr's, to see the pompommed hats of a group of kids rising above its crest. Soon enough the faces of those chattering kids appeared: Brad and Tony and Pam, and also Kate and Greg. At their appearance Violet shrank nervously against her mother, who laid a comforting hand on her hair.

"Don't be afraid, Violet," Jack said after he came over. "I know all these kids. They're all good friends."

That made her look toward the approaching group with some hope. Brad recognized Mom from yesterday and waved. Tony grinned his winning grin and rushed over.

"Hi! Your name's Violet, right?" he asked once he was only a short distance away. "Did you know that's a flower?" She nodded, looking like she had to bite down a smart remark; she must have heard that one a million times already. "Are you ice skating, too?" She couldn't deny the pair of small skates next to her.

"Want to skate with us?" Pam piped up, now also remembering the shy girl who would be in her class. "It's a lot of fun!"

Biting her lip, Violet looked up at Jack for advice. The other kids followed her gaze, but of course they saw only the empty air. Still, Jack felt his chest grow painfully hollow.

"Go ahead," he encouraged her, gesturing toward the children with his staff. "You're gonna be fine." Still nervous, Violet rose from her safe perch by her mother, gathering her skates as she went. Tony's grin returned – really, that boy could charm _anyone_ over with that face – and he led her to the shore where his brother, Kate, and Greg were already at work lacing up their own skates. A pile of snow boots sat nearby, and Violet's and Tony's quickly added to it. Brad took Mom's place helping the too-tight skates back onto Violet's feet, and then all the kids held hands in a chain for the first steps onto the ice. Jack (and Mom) looked on apprehensively; with her "ice-legs" already found, so to speak, Violet did not wobble nearly so much as the other youngsters. Jack smiled to himself, hopeful that this would give her some more confidence. He leaned on his staff as he watched, waving and cheering Violet on whenever she dared a glance back.

Eventually the chain broke up and everyone skated freely. Tony kept in proximity to Violet, and Pam came with him. Brad mostly kept on the sidelines, acting as a supervisor more than anything. Greg, only slightly younger than him, tended to stop and chat before shooting off again. Jack knew Kate to be the wallflower – she flitted amongst the other members of the group, but mainly skated around and between them. After a few minutes, Mom stood with a dozy Dash in her arms and trudged through the snow to converse with Brad. The Wind bore snatches of their conversation to Jack, and it soon became clear that Mom was asking about the school, the town, and most importantly the other kids. She seemed overall pleased with whatever the boy told her. And for that, Jack was glad. He really hoped that the Parr's would stay in Burgess. He knew that he shouldn't hold onto that hope so tightly – they were Supers, after all, and the relocation protocol existed for a reason. But the Parr's really seemed to fit in, here. More importantly, Jack liked them. And Burgess was a pretty quiet place, anyway; there was no way they could run into any trouble here.

–

"Tony and Pam seem like very nice kids, don't they?" Mom said leadingly once they'd left earshot of the lake. Violet hefted her skates over shoulder by the laces. She supposed so. "I think they might be in your new kindergarten class. It'll be nice to know someone already, don't you think?" Violet nodded because she thought maybe she ought to agree. Mom let out a sigh of relief that Jack closely echoed. The Wind picked teasingly at their hair.

"When will I have school again?" Violet asked. Jack frowned, averting his gaze so Violet wouldn't see it as she looked up at her mother. Mom pursed her lips, scanning the snow-blighted landscape.

"Probably tomorrow, if the streets stay cleared."

"_Tomorrow?_" Violet repeated in shock, "But there's still _so much_!" And she turned those begging eyes at Jack and he had no clue what to say. Moon, he didn't even know what to _do._ Of _course_ he would love to give her another snow day; he could block out school for a whole week or a month if he wanted to. But it was the end of March already; soon it would be too warm to sustain a snowfall. As much power as he had over winter weather, Jack still had to obey the seasons on the macroscopic level. How could he explain that to a six-year-old girl and not splinter her faith in him by doing so?

"It hasn't snowed since this morning, and the snow on the roads is all slush. Schools are only closed if it's not safe to drive, Violet, not based on the amount of snow alone."

"Jack...!" But his troubled expression halted her pleading cold. Her face fell and she looked so _angry_ with him he flinched.

"Violet—"

"Go away!"

"Violet, what's wrong?"

"Jack won't make it snow more."

"I can't always make it snow, Violet." _Why_ did he always have to go ahead and explain things he told himself he shouldn't? "Spring is almost here." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Besides, I'm already pushing it. The Groundhog said six more weeks of winter, right? I'm already on _eight_." Never mind that the Easter Kangaroo would get _especially_ cranky at him if he kept winter going into April. But she didn't need to know that.

"The Groundhog's real, too?"

Mom didn't seem to know what to make of the half-conversation anymore, but at least her daughter was distracted out of her sour mood for now. "What about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and-"

It took all of his effort not to emit the most aggravated of sighs. He _really_ should have just stayed quiet, and now here he was getting overshadowed by the holiday heroes again. Thrusting his fingers into his hair again, Jack nodded curtly. "Yep, they're all real. But they're all busy. I can't introduce you. Sorry." The rest of them could have all the other children in the world to believe in them; Violet Parr was _his_.

And she looked about to insist on meeting Santa and the Easter Bunny, but they all arrived at their front door, and Dash kicked up a fuss about wanting more hot chocolate.

"I have to go, now," Jack began awkwardly, feeling wrong-footed for speaking so casually after an exchange like _that_. "I'll be back again tonight. Same time?" The hand on his staff tightened and he refused to admit it was because of the fear that she would say "no." But rather she shrugged and quietly told him "okay." Which still was not _good_, but it at least meant she still liked him. That had to be something, right? So Jack straightened and backed up from the door, and Violet lingered to watch him shoot up into the open sky, before her mother called her into the house.


End file.
